I’m weirding out. I can tell. I’ve been spending  too much time alone: a week up in the mountains with just the beasties for company, and now I’m hunkering down to put the finishing touches on Monkey’s Wedding, my YA novel. Here’s the blurb:

It’s a time of turmoil and change. Britain has just declared the country a Federation along with its two neighboring countries without consulting the natives. Many are starting to resent white rule. All thirteen-year-old Elizabeth McKenzie and fifteen-year-old Tururu, her family’s servant, want is to be friends. But circumstances conspire to work against them. To make matters worse, a local witchdoctor has called up ancient fire spirits to wreak havoc that will make the British overlords look like saints.

The last time I visited Monkey’s Wedding was right after I completed my memoir Loveyoubye. I was ready to send it out again, but a quick peek told me I could do a helluva lot better. The experience of writing a memoir had given me a whole new perspective and a confidence I never had before. So here I am, thirty pages from the end when all hell is about to break loose. I want to get it done by Thursday, that’s when this one publishing contest closes.  So I guess I’ve got to stay weirded out until then.